


le souhait dormir

by yosgay



Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:58:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yosgay/pseuds/yosgay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He ignores the little whisper in his head, calculating exactly how much time he has before the lunch bell rings - it really is plenty of time to cat nap. Instead, he squints as much as he can without actually closing his eyes completely, afraid that if he does, he might fall asleep again. He really, really doesn’t want to fall asleep again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	le souhait dormir

**Author's Note:**

> in case you were wondering, i was listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Td8eQzE4NEc) the whole time

He can see in Souji’s eyes that he doesn’t buy it.

An eyebrow quirks just slightly underneath silver bangs, eyes narrowing at his obvious bullshit "fine" explanation, but Yosuke shrugs it off with an even less convincing laugh, in a halfhearted attempt to be nonchalant. He’s awake for now, miraculously, but still too exhausted to talk about it. If talking would even help - but he’s not really in the right mind to weigh it. 

He collapses onto his desk, the weight of his head pressing his arm uncomfortably into the metal spirals of his notebook, but he doesn’t bother readjusting. He doesn’t close his eyes, just stares at the classroom wall until they water and he can blink again without that sleepless burn.

A bento, generously packed by his mother this morning, sits untouched in his bag for the third day in a row. He can’t even muster the energy to go out into the hallway and give it to Teddie, or even to care that it’ll go to waste. He can’t get rid of this hollow feeling in his stomach, and the tickle in the back of his throat that reminds him of waking up in the middle of the night, cold sweat-slick, and rushing to the bathroom to throw up as a child.

He flicks his tongue against his teeth to unstick it from the roof of his mouth, and resists the urge to press his arm down harder against the notebook.

He ignores the little whisper in his head, calculating exactly how much time he has before the lunch bell rings - it really is plenty of time to cat nap. Instead, he squints as much as he can without actually closing his eyes completely, afraid that if he does, he might fall asleep again.

He really, really doesn’t want to fall asleep again.

He can feel Souji hesitating without looking up, unwilling to go up to the roof without him, and doesn’t bother to reassure him once again. The thought of even moving his legs into a more comfortable position is making him even _more_ tired, and the thought of actually _getting up_ is laughable. Besides, whatever he says, Souji won’t believe him anyway. He doesn’t need Souji to believe him, because, faithfully as ever, he doesn’t pry. He never pries. Yosuke really doesn’t feel fine right now, to say the fucking least, and doesn’t care to put up a front about it.

After a few moments, he hears the classroom door slide shut, and he’s alone. He squeezes his eyes shut and buries his head into the crook of his arm, and later pretends not to notice the two dark spots on the inside of his sleeve.

\- - -  
  
Teddie is the only one who knows.

It’s not like he can keep it from him, when he sleeps ten feet away from Yosuke’s bed. A flimsy closet door isn’t much in the way of sound-proofing, and while Yosuke doesn’t exactly scream, he’s not at all _quiet_. More than once he’s been woken up to perfect blue eyes laced with concern, the warmth and reality of his hands on his shoulders pulling him out of hell and nearly breaking Yosuke more than once. 

Waking up to Teddie crying and shaking him and quietly squeaking out his name over and over is better than waking up to what he expects to see from his unconscious. He can’t even close his eyes to blink anymore without seeing Souji’s blood, Chie’s, everyone’s - even Nanako’s. He can’t unsee the amplified force of the charged up Garudyne, ripped from his body, that brought Souji and Izanagi alike to their knees. No matter how many times they all reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, and that it’s okay, because it happened to all of them too, it was just a parlor trick, every Shadow’s got them - he still can’t blink, can’t sleep, can’t fucking _think_. Namatame is resting his twisted mind in some luxury hospital bed right now - and Yosuke is the one unraveling.

Even then, even now, in his head he still feels static, a red-tinged web coating the back of his eyes so thickly he can’t look back inside himself anymore. It _hurts_ to think too hard, to consider what it means that he could so easily be overtaken by something designed specifically to target his doubts and turn him against everyone. He didn’t realize what that had meant - that he still _had_ those doubts, and insecurities, and that beating your Shadow doesn’t actually mean that you’ll never feel the crippling pain of facing yourself ever again. It means that you’re going to feel it every single day.

He’s been afflicted by Shadows’ ailments before - thrown away all the money in his pockets in a frantic panic, ran away from battles overcome by a fear he _knew_ to be unwarranted, even been so unnaturally confused that he had whacked Kanji with the blunt end of his kunai a few times. The only thing that ever really made him feel afterwards was just a little embarrassed.

But this - this was completely different.

Every single time before this, the ailments had stayed pointedly outside of his head - almost as if he was watching himself react from the inside out. But this one had soaked him to the skin, dripped into his body like an IV - completely coating him, and convincing him of what side he was on. This changed him, for however long it had him in its grip, squeezing him just the right way to make him believe that attacking his friends was not only necessary, but it was _right_.

No one else sees it this way, but it was a kind of betrayal he can't forgive himself for.

He slips into bed right after school, ignoring the low late-autumn sun angled harshly through the openings in his blinds and the unfinished homework in his bag. Water might help wash the sticky-sweet cherry flavor of sleep syrup off of his tongue, but even if it doesn’t really make sense, he doesn’t want to dull the effect at all. The stuff really puts him out, even makes him wake up half-drunk - but he wants it to just pull him under and keep him under for the night. He doesn’t think he can take another dream filled with those god damn peace signs anymore.

\- - -

Yosuke stirs at the cool feeling of a calloused hand on his burning forehead, and a warm, familiar scent enveloping his room.

 _"Souji_ ," he tries to whisper, but the word doesn’t quite make it to his lips.

He keeps his eyes closed, trying to right himself when he can tell that he wasn’t out long enough, and the medicine hasn’t quite made its way out of his system. Even that disgusting syrupy crap couldn’t keep them away, and the remnants still flicker behind his eyes. They’re fuzzy around the edges, but they still happened, and he still can’t curl into a tight enough ball to keep his chest together. He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Souji’s arms are around him. 

He’s cooing and murmuring like he’s talking to a child, little half-words that Yosuke can’t quite make out, but it’s the most comfort he’s felt in days, and it stings. It stings because all he can feel is Jiraiya pulsing remnants in his head of the pain he caused Souji. The blanket twists painfully between his fingers, as he tries to cover himself in as much of it as possible - as if any exposed skin is vulnerable.

The air blown by the ceiling fan feels too sharp against his face, and he wonders if that hurts Souji, too.

Souji is laid next to him now, his body fitting to Yosuke’s like a puzzle piece, arms wrapped around his chest and chin on his head. Yosuke doesn’t know how long they’ve stayed like this, or how their legs got tangled together, or when Souji even took his shoes off. He usually doesn’t even have to try to hold it in, but right now all he wants to do is cry, and be held, and be _weak_. He lets himself think it’s just the extreme exhaustion talking, dampening the disgust that usually bubbles up at the knot in his chest and the welling of his eyes, but Souji is so _warm_ , and this has been the coldest fall he can remember, never mind the fog.

He stirs, and Souji makes a sort of squeaking sound and immediately backs off, but Yosuke flips himself around and tangles his hands in Souji’s shirt and buries his head in his chest. He can feel Souji’s heart beat, and his shaking stills some. He pretends not to notice the two wet patches in the fabric, and Souji does too, carding fingers gently through sleep-tangled hair.

Yosuke still can’t quite make out any full sentences, but the last thing he hears is “I forgive you, Yosuke,” before Souji kisses the top of his head, and he finally falls into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> just thinkin bout how much it probably would have bothered yosuke to have been controlled by namatame's shadow, and how it might effect him afterwards, idk


End file.
